#arrestandexecution

          Long enough it took for him to truly locate his specific target [ went through quite a few people on his way ]. He’s been told, by the last of his ‘partners’ that Carvel had been in his office last seen. That he would arrange, rearrange, and move soldiers back and forth. How terrible, perhaps, that his newest one was quite so displeasing, quite so against any norms and rules [ and still, he had accepted him in, for the higher rank could have sent him away after all that was found in files before ].

          “I do see you are busy, Sir?”

          What he feels, quite frankly, are the stories that they tell [ scream to him about, in their murmuring voices, too faint to be heard by human ear ]. Are those that beg to be released and read, spread open and apart from their hardships, from the way they are made forlorn by the unpleasantness of crimes. 

Sneaking about the library was easily done; quickly conduct with following the faint feel of an all-too-familiar power cloaking the insides of the mansion-like building. It’s seldom for the little female to find herself such far off from home ( but what are barriers exactly ? for her own kind ), wandering a place such often heard about, yet never seen before with very own eyes. A first, indeed, for how often had only Carvel found consolation at her side? To find comfort and calm? - How often had Katarina pondered to mere go up and visit the librarian such diligently taking up any and all available moment to find companionship in her?

Sure as much, he would find himself aware about the sudden presence unhurriedly sauntering through halls and rows of bookshelves, tucked away in multitude of chambers. Sure as much, that chuckle released in softened and mild tone, would reach him surely when he only approached. 

          Expecting, but what exactly? When that hand outstretches towards his waiting form, when those eyes of that partner of his would truly just question, wait to be soothed from rushing state of thoughts. Unless he knows a way, is what he’s told, and the warrior does. In numerous kinds, in very different pursuits of the what and the how ( he should question what happened - in just a moment he would ). 

@arrestandexecution

It was an everlasting little ‘game’ ( how truly foolish, a chiding notion to even call this habit, joyfully meant ), one to be accounted for as pleasant upon the whole little tease it could have been like. By now, and with this very moment – it was not. In all it’s subtle honesty, not a single flicker of thought to wander mind, turning such innocence around by whole, turning it into sensuality unneeded, uncared for. It simply was not. A moment of solace and calm tranquillity, a moment of ever-returning gentility without the need for words, information to be transported much more swiftly just with the very touch of a hand and palm driven along dishevelled hair.

The punisher came back from an arrest – the usual to stop by at the King’s place when only time and way would allow it ( and even if not ? not deterred from movement past and beyond ). All the more easy to simply switch in and out of the monarch’s personal premises, he never minded, never questioned to find the slender figure curled up either on large furniture over-spanning living room or bed of his own beneath waiting softness of sheets and pillows.

Today was mere the slightest different: for the Vampire to be home, to be relaxing quietly by himself, reading some literature taken out of the curator’s library upon latest visit conducted just a small margin ago. Truthfully, no expectation had been present that his partner would turn up quite so soon and in early evening hours, yet the fine wisps of smoke to visualise arrival at his stead. To announce something more than truly needed with rising eyes to glance up from lines followed diligently, various verses and stories discarded the moment slender hand would reach for hardbound back of old and fragile pages in his very own. He let his beloved take it away. Let him discard it to the side in soft, near sleepy motion. A smile of his own to repay the slightly lidded eyes of the punisher, a mild chuckle following it all when the hand now free again to reach his cheek, drawing feather-light over pale skin. “Tired~?” No answer ( not needed, of course ) besides a soft hum for the touch placed on him to be all the answer, all the explanation needed.

He moved just slightly, lying perfectly still on overlarge lounge whilst the slender physique twist and settled himself, pressure for first was solely to be felt in movement of padded ground, then ( desired ) curling up on him. It was a tender way to react and act, taking and accepting what Carvel wanted ( for the monarch found himself wanting quite the same ), yet softly so, asking in ways that were not unknown to them, yet unneeded to be decided by anything else but breathless affections. Beauty even in such small things, in such small reactions and actions to be had. Hand of his own reached up soon enough, stroke aside long and silken hair, brushing past young face to lace behind ear.

It was an invitation. Spoken in ways words would not provide when language of touch and feeling was one much more advanced than any human creation would offer before them and much more appreciated. Nothing to truly ponder about right now with attention unflinchingly and undivided perfectly placed onto the form in such need of gentle attention placed and provided by own hand. How caring monster could just be - with offering nought but knowledge of safety unmatched and perfectly deserved.

A moment of time that passed with gaze to never avert from lithe physique moving to find best and most comfortable place, no sounds to be brought forth beyond the softness of fabrics moving on each other, and the soft sound of recognition similar to a hum, a sigh - something in between both of them, and still neither of the sounds really coming to life. It’s in a certain way to have fire-like eyes laced with gentility still poised on that curling bundle in his arms. The book was long forgotten ( pages could be found back later ), nothing more important than that search for the regards of comfort quite like this. How quaint to think that such a now near daily habit, had been a movement never considered only a few passing months ago. 

Never even dared to be requested - to be fulfilled. 

All long past and hidden deep in mind, with that subtle purr to draw him out of thoughts that should have been pushed aside and away with each and every tick of a clock they had witnessed surely together ( so many hardships, truly, he will ignore it ). That purr enough to quirk up a smile, to shift the slightest bit against the corner of large lounge they both fit on perfectly, with getting themselves to a rest for a couple of hours in starlit night. It’s in a specific way that a glance would follow the subtle shift of hair in his grasp, gathered up by arm and hand the way he’s moving in idle peaceful ways, wrapping around that slender frame pressed tightly against his warming form. It’s quite a time to really pass, a time he’s missing a beat as question tranquilly reaches his ear--- “Something the matter~?” ---it’s a lilt of a sound, a mirthful way to address that partner of his drawn in consideration and pretty visions right beneath his grasp.

Was something the matter, truly?

A lot of things, to saunter through his mind, as that curl of lips drew itself the slightest wider, as free hand to not be laced around that slender back, would move in brushing strands out of young face. A stray one to be back and behind his partner’s ear ( how gentle monster could truly be --- ). Was something the matter, he had been asked and just as much would reply truthfully. “Nothing really, but everything at the same time~” Jokingly honest, for Carvel knew him far too deeply ( throughout, each and every bit of his being, was the librarian’s own to hold and cradle ) that he would be unable in deciphering those few little words. Nothing was the matter, and everything of him to stay firmly in the monarch’s mind. 

And of course, it would be enough of an answer to be had. All that needed to be said when soon enough a kiss nudged itself against the line of his jaw when his growling reply mixed with subtle laughter would not rise above whispering level ( as if keeping a secret, only between one another, such a beautiful little habit ). It’s far enough for this night, to just hold one another when feeling palm draw itself along clothed waist of his, wandering past rib-cage and the muscles lining abdomen, hidden behind the finest veil of clothing. It’s enough for this very night, truly, when that beloved being in coveting hold, moved the slightest margin in curling up in the crook of neck.

Always to answer one another’s attentions with purrs and smiles and touches. 

Waiting for heartbeats to calm down, for breathing to find itself the slightest softer - how very rare he knows this behaviour for the curator turned out to be, when once he had been told that sleeping for that kind of his, was such a chore and nearly wish to fulfil. Easier to, always, in protected vicinity, in those arms ( no safer place, no safer person - the warrior has also once been told exactly this ), those kisses pressing itself to the top of his lover’s head. Easier to, as it seems, for just as much he had drifted off what appeared to be the blink of an eye. Enough to make the monarch smile just again, enough to settle down with having eyes shift over beloved form, that hand to be curled loosely in his own attire, as if holding onto ( as if he would go away ). 

Never, that much is certain, for they are only for one another. 

@arrestandexecution   

                                              Christmas-G i f t - Warmth a n d Togetherness.

ＳＯＵＮＤＴＲＡＣＫ:

1) Everything Good - 'Ashes Remain' | 2) Agony - 'AZEDIA' | 3) Stay - 'Boyce Avenue' | 4) You're not alone - 'CMA' ( instrumental ) | 5) Gold - 'Echos' | 6) Oxygen - 'Fred V & Grafix' | 7) Lost Track of Time - 'MTNS' | 8) Undisclosed Desires - 'Muse' | 9) Wicked Game - 'Ursine Vulpine' ( feat. Annaca ) | 10) Horizons - 'Puscifer' | 11) Crossfire - 'Stephen' | 12) Let the Sparks fly - 'Thousand Foot Krutch' | 13) Keep me breathing - 'Ashes Remain' | 14) Wolf - 'Skott'

Following glances, following stares ( used to it, as it was - different still ), with wandering around and about, not minding much but each other’s company in those dawning hours of the day, slowly coming to a close when light would be blocked out and the settling in, from one moment to another, of the rise and shine of lights to illuminate the alleyways filled and hemmed with shacks and booths. It’s quaint to think how easy it was to draw any and all attention solely on each other - and how distant just that company of his seemed to be in thoughts ( knowing to the why and what ). 

It’s the best to still allow to take time, to offer time in exchange for nought but breaths and steps were taken. 

Could have asked, could have guessed after certain things the Count was unable to really grasp ( not yet, not quite as it was ), before turning back around from his very pursue of certain pretty little items that had caught attention, yet would be discarded for even prettier things. How quaint to think, that this all should be normal - and even felt like it. Yet something missing, not quite there ( for himself, only for himself ), with that attentive gaze to wander the smaller male’s frame and catch itself on face so patiently waiting for whatever there was to be said. 

“Shall we go further? You don’t seem that interested in the objects around.”

                    ❝  Mm-- I had rather hoped that it would RAIN today.  ❞

    Words uttered out loud to herself in a single breath, book in hand that she clutches TIGHTLY to her chest as she gazes out of the window at GREY CLOUDS that seem to roll away from them. A soft sigh of DISAPPOINTMENT before she draws away from the window, the book held against her chest quietly slipped back into place on its shelf. Drawn into her thoughts is she for the briefest of moments AURA nor presence sensed, until she turns around to catch sight of the curator. An obvious START with hand that lifts to her heart ( a HABIT rather than sensation of heart leaping ), before brows   SLANT   &    she laughs. The hand against chest lifts to instead push back heavy strands of silver, shaking her head.